


All at Once

by LadyKailitha



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, Doctor John Watson, Friends to Lovers, Kidnapped Sherlock, M/M, Sherlock Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKailitha/pseuds/LadyKailitha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is kidnapped for once and it's up to John to come to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All at Once

**Author's Note:**

> When I put this story up on ff.net I completely forgot to thank by awesome beta for editing this for me. Thanks to old ping hai!

I thought that it was actually refreshing not to be the one kidnapped for a change. Not that I wanted Sherlock to be kidnapped, but since it's usually the other way round, it made for a nice change of pace really. 

The reason was even for something we hadn't encountered before. They wanted to experiment on the Great Detective. To find out what it was about Sherlock that made him so damn clever. Of course, they could have nabbed Mycroft, but he tended to play dumb in public and Sherlock liked to show off. So on one of those rare occasions where I happened to be out of town (medical seminars and conventions are the only things that got me out of London these days), they nabbed my idiotic flatmate and made off with him. 

I got the call from Mycroft mere minutes after it occurred. There was even a private jet waiting for me to take me back to London in hopes of finding my friend before irreparable damage was done.

On the flight over I read over the file that Mycroft had prepared for me about the people that had taken Sherlock and the facility that held him bound. I was rather impressed with how quickly the file had been put together and how detailed it was. The major problem I was noticing was how to get the detective out without harming him or getting him killed. 

I set the file down and closed my eyes, my mind drifting back to the seminar to take my mind off my troubles. Yet, the panels gave me an idea. A slow smile spread across my face as a plan formed in my head. Mycroft is not going to like this, at all. And that's what made the plan all more the fun. 

***

I strolled into Mycroft's office at Thames House. I swung open the door without even the barest of nods to his secretary. I smirked when she didn't even bother to try and stop me. He looked up at me briefly and then back to the papers on his desk. I went up and added one more paper to his stack. 

"John, I understand you want to help but I really do have the best minds working on a way to rescue Sherlock without him coming to harm."

"I only need the two items and a squad of your best men and I can do just that with no muss or fuss." 

Mycroft looked down at my plan. I watched with satisfaction as his eyebrows steadily climbed to higher heights. 

"You do realize how many things can go wrong with this plan, correct?"

"Of all the options you have, do you really have any better?" I countered. He sighed as he looked over the plan again. 

"Sadly not." 

I smirked.

***

Making sure everything was secure, I looked up at Mycroft. "You do know this plan will work, right?"

"I hope so for your sake, Dr. Watson. I hope so," was the quiet reply. I placed my hand on his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. 

"You know I'd do anything for him. Please let me do this. Please?" I looked into those dark blue orbs, more like my own than the bright blue of his brother's. He nodded slowly. 

"Get going, doctor. You have forty-five minutes until breach." I smiled and walked right up to the facility, bold as brass. 

"I demand to see Sherlock Holmes." Seeing their stunned faces, I rolled my eyes. "Oh, don't give me that look. I know he's here. I know you've drugged him and as his personal physician I know him a hell of a lot better than you do. I need to make sure you haven't killed him by accident." They looked at me and took me straight to Sherlock. Acting like you owned the place got you results no matter who you were. 

They led me to a small circular room that had Sherlock in the center. He was kneeling, with his arms outstretched, firmly secured to two metal posts. His head was down, his dark curls covered his eyes. They had taken both his coat and suit jacket, his deep blue shirt open slightly at the neck. My heart broke. 

I dashed over to him and slid to my knees. I put my hand on his cheek. He looked up at me, startled. 

"John?"

"Shh, It'll be all right. I'm here now," I whispered.

"Oh, god. No."

I pressed my lips to his ear. Just follow my lead. 

Then I pressed my lips to his. I could feel him tense up but knew that it would be only something two people in the world would be able to perceive. One was his brother, who was waiting out side to give the order to his men, and the other was the one kissing him. 

He leaned into the kiss and my stomach did flips. I'm not… gay? I thought as I gently pressed my tongue to his lips so that he opened his mouth. That is when I passed him a small capsule. 

My lips moved slowly against his. Don't swallow. When I stand up, bite it. I looked into his eyes and made sure he got the message. He blinked once and I sighed with relief. My clever, clever madman.

They pulled me to my feet and I could see Sherlock obey me, for probably the first time in his life. It took a couple of minutes for the capsule to take effect. I pretended to struggle to get to Sherlock; to do what I was suppose to be doing, which was checking out my flatmate. When the capsule took effect, the pandemonium was fantastic to watch. Sherlock began to shake and tremble. Next came the foaming at the mouth. They let him go at that point. The guards had no idea what to do. 

"Unlock his chains!" I bellowed and one of them started forward, but the other guard held him back. 

"He can't escape like this, and I can't carry him out and deal with you as well. Unchain him!" They bustled forward and each one unlocked one set. That's interesting, I thought. So one needed both keys to release him. It was quite clever; Mycroft would approve. 

I laid him on the floor. I checked his pulse. It was threaded and weak. I had about ten minutes before this whole thing went to shit. I turned the guards. 

"What did you give him?" I yelled. "You did know this man was an addict, didn't you?" They looked at each other in shock. I knew they didn't. Mycroft had made sure that his little brother's indiscretions with the police had vanished. Even his stint in a rehab facility in Florida had been made to look like an extended vacation. 

"Shit man! Help me get him to the infirmary!" They looked stunned. "You do have an infirmary, right?" I growled. 

They took me to the infirmary. One stayed at the door and the other entered with us. I turned my back and removed the plastic strip from under my tongue. I opened the package and put the medicine strip on a tongue depressor and moved to Sherlock. I opened his mouth and placed it in. I almost breathed a sigh of relief. I had administered the antidote with minutes to spare. 

My heart was pounding in my chest. I just had to find a way to get rid of my watch dog within the twenty minutes it would take for Sherlock to recover and for his brother to send in his men. I continued to "treat" Sherlock. With ten minutes till breach, my answer came in the form of a facility doctor. 

"Who are you?" she bellowed. I looked her over. She was a tall, leggy red-head. I estimated her height to be about Sherlock's. She was thin but not muscular. The type of girl I would have asked out, had I not known she was one of the bastards that took my best friend. 

She sent the guard out and grilled me about her patient. I bristled. I knew Sherlock better than she did, by miles. But here she was making insinuations about my neglect. I was looking forward to five minutes from now. 

I tried to stay calm as I as explained Sherlock's personality profile. She clearly hadn't interacted with him while he was awake because the look on her face was incredulous. 

My watched beeped. She looked up at me sharply. 

"Sorry, doctor. Time's up." Within seconds she was unconscious on the floor. "Bitch." I looked down at Sherlock, just as his eyes fluttered opened. 

He blinked at me and then struggled to sit up. I rushed to help him. "What's going on, John?"

I just smiled as helped him to his feet. He wavered a little and I had to catch him. "Whoa there. You're going to be a little woozy for a bit."

"Do I want to know what you gave me?" he glowered at me. My smile turned into a feral grin. "Right," he said. "What's next? Clearly this a rescue," he added when I looked up him sharply. 

"Now I get to take care of the goons outside the door and procure us a gun or two." He blinked at me, the drug still addling his brain. I left him clutching the bed and strolled out the door. I tapped the shoulder of the one on the right. When he turned at looked at me, I grabbed his hand and swung him into the other guard. As they scrambled to get off each other, I grabbed the gun of the first guard and pistol whipped him. He sunk to the ground and I leveled the gun at the remaining guard. He looked shocked that little old me could take down two armed guards. 

"Hand me your gun, slowly." I pulled my left hand off the gun in my hands and motioned for him to give me his gun. He reached slowly to his side and pulled the gun out of its holster. Without getting near the trigger he put the gun in my outstretched hand. I tucked it behind me in my belt and then I clocked him in the face with my gun. 

I walked back in with a shit-eating grin and Sherlock chuckled. I tossed the gun in my hand to him and he caught deftly. 

"Glad to see your reflexes are coming back nicely. Regrettably you'll still need to lean on me to walk."

I may have misheard but I swore he said, "Nothing regrettable about that…" I moved to his side and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I looked up questioningly and he nodded. I took a step, he stumbled with me, it was ungainly but it worked. 

"Alright, John. How are we supposed to get out of a secure medical facility with me relying on you to walk and only two guns?" 

"Oh, they'll be too busy with the distraction." 

"Which distraction is that?" And as if it was on cue, the alarms started blaring. "Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" 

"John, what did you do?" 

"Me? Nothing." I refused to tell him the rest. I opened the door and carefully navigated Sherlock over the fallen guards. 

"Couldn't you have just shot them?" he asked as we shuffled down the hall.

"Would have alerted our friends prematurely." Sherlock chuckled. 

I moved us to an offshoot of the hallway and set Sherlock down. Pulling the gun from my belt, I crouched down next to him on the floor. 

I turned to him. "Do you think you can cover me? I need to clear the hallway." He nodded and I smiled. He got to his knees and took my place at the corner. Between the two of us it took us mere minutes to take out the guards. I sidled up to his right so I could keep my gun hand open. 

"John, your shoulder…" Sherlock protested. 

"Getting us out of here alive is more important than a weak shoulder. We'll be fine. Just two more hallways to go, and those should be cleared out by the time we get to them," I informed him.

He shrugged me off and he appeared to stand fine on his own. I sighed inwardly in relief. I disliked seeing him helpless. He took a few steps and while he wobbled a bit, it was clear he was able to walk. I was about to take my place at his left when he took my free hand in his. He smiled shyly at me. I smiled back and gave his hand a little, reassuring squeeze. 

"Let's go," I murmured. He nodded and we were off. The corridors were long but straight. All around us we could hear the sounds of battle. My heart pounded with excitement. It felt like our first case all over again. Not that it was in any way similar but the rush and high were just as exhilarating as that first time. 

We reached the final corridor and we could see the door and through it Mycroft's men waiting to welcome us with open arms.

"Feel like running?" I asked.

"Ready when you are," Sherlock said with a wink. Apparently his thoughts were similar to my own. 

We made a dash for the doors. Laughing, we burst through them to the outside. 

"That has got to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever done," Sherlock wheezed between laughs. 

"You took out Moriarty's web," I replied. 

A smile crinkled his eyes. "Yes, but that wasn't just me." I laughed. I looked up to see Mycroft shaking his head at us. 

"You two will never grow up, will you?" he drolled. 

"Dull," came his brother's reply, which got me laughing again. 

"Well, it appears that your plan worked perfectly," Mycroft said turning to me. Sherlock looked down at me in shock. 

"This was you, John?" 

"Yep, I told you going to that conference would be a good idea." Sherlock's brow furrowed unsure what I meant. 

"Let's go home." And I heartily agreed. I saw both Mycroft and Lestrade, who was there to arrest the top people for kidnapping, looking at us with the strangest expressions on their faces. It wasn't until we got to the car Mycroft had provided for us, and we had to let go our hands to get in, that I realized their meaning. 

Sherlock looked disappointed in the loss of my hand so when we got settled in the car, I took his hand back. His face softened to something akin to fondness. We spent most of the trip staring into each others' eyes. Just as we both got the courage to lean forward, a discrete cough came from the cab of the car. 

"Baker Street." 

We both blushed furiously as we got out of the car.

"John, you're home early," came the coo as we entered 221. 

Sherlock looked at me sharply. 

"Yeah," I replied. "It was pretty much the same as last year, so to spare me the boredom, I came back early."

"Who would have thought there hadn't been any new discoveries in medicine in the last year," Mrs. Hudson murmured, thoughtful.

"Yes, who would have thought…" Sherlock agreed, his bright blue eyes focused on me. I blushed and muttered something about going to bed, it had been a long day. I could feel two sets of eyes on my back as trudged up the stairs.

"Well, maybe a thing or two about poisons and their antidotes," I muttered shyly. 

As I made my way up the final set of stairs to my room I heard Mrs Hudson say, "You know he came home for you, don't you?" she asked Sherlock.

"Yes, I do." 

I knew I should have stayed and made sure there were no adverse effects from the cocktail of drugs in his system but I was so exhausted that I could barely make it up the stairs to my room. I threw my coat on the floor and kicked off my shoes as I made the way to my bed. I flopped on it and within seconds I was asleep. 

The morning dawned bright and to the soothing sounds of a violin played with care. I rolled off the bed and landed on both feet. I shrugged off my clothes as I made my way to the bathroom. By the time I got to the shower I was completely naked. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it and stepped in. 

I let the water wash off the remains of yesterday. Despite the fact that I lived for moments like the escape from the medical facility, having Sherlock in danger wrecked my nerves to the point of strain. And that kiss. It wasn't suppose to be anything. The simple pressing of lips. But it wasn't that. Not for either of us. Sherlock had leaned into the kiss and I got butterflies. 

I never thought myself attracted to men before. Even in the military where such things were accepted no matter your orientation, it just never appealed to me. When I said I was fine with Sherlock having a boyfriend, I had been speaking generally. I knew several gays in my unit and there was Harry and Clara. But now the thought of him being with anyone else sent shivers down my spine and not in a good way. 

I'm not sure how long I stayed in the shower but it was long after the water turned cold. I stepped out, cursing the fact that I had neglected to bring anything to change into. I toweled off and was about to walk out with the towel wrapped around my waist, when I noticed the bathrobe hanging on the hook on the door. 

As I remembered seeing it on my way to the bathroom, Sherlock must have put it there. No doubt deducing that I had forgotten it. I smiled fondly until the realization that he had come in while I was showering brought a blush to my cheeks. I stepped out of the bathroom. I was half expecting to find my flatmate leaning against the doorframe to our living room, but the hallway was surprisingly clear. I'm not sure if I was relieved by this or not. I walked into the living room and found him draped over his chair like a black panther. 

"Thanks for this," I told him as indicated to the bathrobe. He just nodded and I went to make myself a cup of coffee. I usually had tea but I'll be damned if I didn't need something stronger. 

"Coffee?" I called over my shoulder.

"Yes, please." That brought me up short. Did the Great Detective actually say please? I decided to add it to my growing list of things I wanted to discuss with him. I brewed the coffee and added two sugars to his and creamer to mine. 

I brought out both cups and handed Sherlock his, our fingers brushing slightly and just like, that the butterflies were back. A blush of dusky pink flushed my cheeks and I could feel my ears burn. 

"So, do you want to talk about yesterday?" I asked after a few moments of silence from the both of us. 

"The flat was invaded as four armed men stormed the living room. Two of them grabbed me from the couch and no matter how hard I fought back, it was like fighting mountains. Someone had done their homework, it appears. They brought me to my knees and the smallest of the four came over and injected me with some drug. 

"When I awoke, I was in that room where you found me. I judged from my knowledge of my own body and from some of the things that were said as I was coming out of it, that it had been approximately four hours since my capture. They had done nothing in the forty-five minutes from the time I woke until you came. I believe they were making sure the drug was completely out of my system."

I nodded. "That's good to know." My eyes crinkled in merriment. "I was referring to after that, though." I winked at him. 

"No."

I blinked at him in confusion. "No? Why not?" Something twisted painfully in my chest. He stood up and began pacing, frustration lining every curve of his body. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Sherlock was notorious for not understanding emotions; what was normal for damn near everyone else wasn't normal for him. I just had to be patient. 

"Come on, Sherlock," I pleaded. "You can tell me. I won't break." He glared at me.

"No," he murmured. "But I might." The last sentence was so soft, I wasn't sure I had heard it but the look on his face said it all. 

I stood up and grabbed his wrist to stop his pacing. 

"Why don't you want to talk about it?" I asked him gently.

"I'm afraid," Sherlock whispered. 

"Of what?"

"That if I say anything, it'll shatter the illusion." He refused to look at me. 

"What illusion?" Concern creased my brow. 

"The illusion that you love me…." Sherlock shouted, his voice cracking on the word "love". He pulled his wrist from my grasp and flung himself on the couch. He curled up into a ball, I moved to sit next to him. 

"Sherlock, talk to me. What are you saying? Are you saying that you love me?" I placed a hand on his hip. 

"I didn't know I could," he choked. "But when you placed your lips on mine, it opened flood gates I didn't even know were there." 

"I-I felt the same, Sherlock." He whirled around to face me. He looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was doing his deducing thing. His eyes began flicking over my features and body posture. 

"I thought you were straight, John…" his voice held a quivering note of disbelief. 

I laughed. "Hell, Sherlock. I did, too. Until that moment when our lips touched, I was secure in my sexuality. Suddenly there were sparks and butterflies and a dozen other things associated with Eros love. There was just you, and it was wonderful." 

Sherlock smiled, "Agape, Eros, Philla, Storge. The four stages of love. I didn't know you were a Greek scholar, John." 

"Well, I briefly wanted to be a poet in uni," I said blushing, remembering what Sherlock told Henry Knight about my poetry making him laugh.

"I see. Did you go through both prior stages or just Philla?" He was sitting up, his eyes alight with curiosity. 

"Storge was the thing that got me through our first month together. Especially the 'Blind Banker' case." I chuckled and he joined me. 

"Now that I can believe. I don't think anyone would disagree. When did it turn to Philla?" 

"That damned pool." I ran my fingers through my hair. "You have no idea how grateful I was to learn that deranged criminal put a bullet in his brain. If there was anyone that should have been put down like a dog, it was that one." 

He nodded and then reached out and put his hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. My eyes fluttered as I felt his lips on my mine and the sparks from the facility turned into full blow fireworks. I reached up and carded my fingers through those soft curls. 

When we finally parted, I leaned my forehead against his, my hand still entrenched in his dark locks. 

"You are the only one I can't live without, John." His breath ghosted my skin and I inhaled his scent. "I thought it was just because I needed you. Pure, unadulterated need. But this--this encompasses more than that. I'm not sure if it's love, but it's the closest I've ever come in my life."

I nodded and brought our lips together. 


End file.
